


At the Door in the Hall

by GalaxyGhosty



Series: It Started With the Rain [2]
Category: JackSepticEye (YouTube RPF), Markiplier (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 17:54:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3701325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyGhosty/pseuds/GalaxyGhosty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Jack returns the umbrella with a thank you in mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At the Door in the Hall

**Author's Note:**

> Having _exactly_ 39 works on my account was so bothersome.
> 
> So was having exactly 1000 words on the last story.
> 
> Best way to remedy that is to write more. Enjoy.

He wondered how long he should wait.

Jack sat in his tiny little apartment, listening to the clock tick absently. He stared at the umbrella on his dining table intently, as if taking his eyes off of it would make it disappear. After getting home and drying off, he had put on some fresh clothes and wondered when he should return the object in question to Mark Fischbach.

Mark, Jack thought. He looked like a Mark. There was something about the way that he talked and he looked and he smiled that yes, Mark seemed like a good name for him. He had left a mark, an impression of sorts, on him. To be fair, Jack really couldn't get his smile out of his head. It was just so broad and bright and utterly _perfect_ that Jack wanted to smile just thinking about it.

God, he felt like he was a kid again. Rather, he felt like he was a horny teenager getting giddy over a cute girl. Or boy, in this case. 

Jack really wanted to see him again. He cursed himself for seizing up when Mark had actually spoken to him. Why did he have to be such an awkward weirdo when it came to talking to people in person? If he was texting or on the phone or online, it was infinitely simpler. He was way more energetic and articulate, if he did say so himself. But in person, he always froze up, especially when he made eye contact. He always had been.

The umbrella taunted him from his table. Should he go and return it now? Or would that seem too strange, too eager? There was no way that Mark had missed the way Jack just stared at him. Then again, it hadn't seemed to bother him. With those looks, Mark was probably used to people staring at him...

Jack buried his face in his hands. For fuck's sake, it was entirely possible that Mark meant absolutely _nothing_ by giving him his umbrella. He probably didn't. It was probably a gesture of good will. Mark seemed like the kind of guy who would jump into a freezing river to save a drowning puppy. Not for publicity or anything, but because he was just _that fucking nice_.

But he couldn't get that stupid, silly, absolutely gorgeous smile out of his mind, and Jack knew he was well and truly fucked.

This is how, the next day, Jack found himself wandering the streets of his hometown, following his haphazardly scrawled instructions on how to get to Mark's apartment. He actually _did_ have to take the bus this time, to an area he was entirely unfamiliar with. 

At least it looks nice, Jack figured. It could be the slums or a dark alleyway and Mark could be a psychotic killer. Though, that wasn't entirely ruled out yet. He still knew so little of Mark.

Perhaps Mark used his godly charm to woo unsuspecting victims back to his home so he could murder them and eat their intestines.

Jack mentally slapped himself. What the hell was he thinking, anyway? 

He slowed his pace down until he came to an apartment complex. He craned his neck upwards at the tall building, and recognized that it looked pretty nice. Not lavish by any means, but comfortable. He squinted as the sun bore down on him, and as he gripped the umbrella tighter, he thought it was a little ironic, somehow.

Jack looked down at said umbrella and read the number of Mark's apartment again, just to be sure. Though, he didn't really need to. The numbers were already ingrained into his mind, and probably wouldn't leave even if he wanted them to. He walked up to the building and climbed up the stairs, nerves building in his stomach with each step.

When he got to Mark's floor, it felt so quiet. He continued down the hall and his footsteps echoed back at him. He sucked in a breath as he stood in front of Mark's door, and he raised his hand to knock.

But then he lowered it. But then he raised it again. He swallowed. God, when had his palms gotten so sweaty, anyway? 

Finally, sucking in a sharp breath, Jack knocked on the door. He rapped his knuckles on it three times, and then rocked back on his heels, waiting. He thought maybe Mark wasn't home, but then he heard rustling inside, and slowly, painfully slow, the door opened.

Mark's eyes brightened a bit when they saw him, and Jack suddenly felt very, very uncomfortable in his own skin. He felt too lanky and too awkward and too out of shape as Mark said, “Hey.” 

“Here's your umbrella,” Jack said, biting at his lower lip. He extended it out and Mark reached for it, and Jack fought back the urge to shiver as Mark's fingers brushed his.

What was it with Mark that had this...spell over him? He'd never acted like this around anyone else before. None of his past relationships had ever quite...made him feel so alive. 

“Oh, great!” Mark grinned. He leaned against the door frame. “I honestly wasn't expecting this back so quick, to be honest. Thanks for the speedy delivery.” 

Jack couldn't help but smile back. “Speed is key, is what I like to say.”

The minute the words left his mouth, Jack wanted nothing more than the ground to swallow him whole. Really? _Speed is key?_ What was he, twelve? But Mark seemed to think nothing of it as he laughed, soft but low in his throat.

Fuck, that was hot. 

Jack continued to rock on his heels, and he wondered what else there was to say. He didn't want to go quite yet, but still...he had nothing left to say or to do. 

Even so, he opened his mouth, but Mark interrupted, “I don't think I got your name?”

“Jack,” he said. “It's Jack. Kinda boring, really, but...it's mine.”

He smiled sheepishly, trying not to show his teeth. It probably looked sort of awkward, but he figured it was the least awkward thing he could do right now. 

“It's kind of cool, actually,” Mark said. “Simple is kind of nice, these days.”

Jack nodded, and then, before he could lose the courage buildup he'd mustered, “I want to...ah...thank you. For letting me borrow your umbrella. Are you busy today?” 

Mark frowned, and Jack's heart sank. That wasn't a good sign. “Yeah, I've got some plans with some friends of mine today...”

“That's alright,” Jack said quickly. “Jus'...thank ya. Fer your umbrella. I appreciate it.” 

Mark shook his head. “It was nothing. And, Jack. If you want, I'm...free tomorrow?” 

Jack felt his face heat up, and instinctively he pulled a bit at his collar. But he couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips again as he said, “I...yeah. That'd be good. Coffee?” 

“Coffee's good,” Mark replied. “Come by tomorrow, then. I know of a good place. Say...noon?”

“Right, sure,” Jack nodded. Mark gave a little wave and closed the door, and Jack's heart swelled in his chest.

Silently, he did a little dance to himself in the hall, because he was pretty sure he had just scored himself a date.

**Author's Note:**

> Direct sequel to _On the Corner of the Bus Stop_. Please read that first!
> 
> Also, if you're noticing Jack's accent just randomly picking up, there's a reason, I promise. It's not just me being silly and forgetful. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for the support on the last piece! It was a huuuuge relief. You guys are great. 
> 
> This is gonna be a great series. I'm pumped.


End file.
